


Dark Necessities

by BossToaster (ChaoticReactions)



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Gen, Morality, Non-Graphic Violence, War Morality
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-19
Updated: 2017-01-19
Packaged: 2018-09-18 16:17:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,564
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9393245
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChaoticReactions/pseuds/BossToaster
Summary: Sometimes, the choices are easy.This is not one of those times.Shiro knew what he was agreeing to when he became their leader.  It doesn't make those calls easier.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [VelkynKarma](https://archiveofourown.org/users/VelkynKarma/gifts).



The ground under Shiro shook.  Dust showered onto his head, scattering into his hair and over his lap.  It made the tiny cave harder to breathe in, and Shiro closed his eyes tight and cupped a hand over his mouth to keep from inhaling anything.

He couldn’t afford to cough, or make any kinds of noises.  He wasn’t sure the explosions in the distance would cover the sound.  It wasn’t worth the risk.

Not when the bombs were for him.

There was silence for a moment, long enough for Shiro to open his eyes and take a breath of the cleared air.  Then another bomb fell, and the process repeated itself over again.

Curled up tightly in the small space, Shiro tried to remind himself that he’d made the right call.  Because he had.  

It didn’t feel like it.

***

Shiro respected that the Alteans were an advanced race, who had traveled the galaxy, perfected warp technology, and created feats of technology (and magic) that Shiro had only begun to understand the scope of.

That didn’t stop him from wondering why they had designed their elite fighter and peacekeeping team to have an odd number of members.

Yes, they’d wanted the lions to come together in the shape of a single bipedal being, but it meant that if they wanted to accomplish more than two things at a given time, someone was going alone.

“Do you have an ETA on the modifications?” Shiro asked, as he piloted the black lion to land on the edge of the cliff face. The flat surface curved like a horseshoe, with the longest part pointing directly to the city below like an arrow.  When he landed, the lion’s claws scraped into the clay-colored stone, anchoring it against the whipping winds. 

Over the comms, Pidge groaned.  “Not yet,” she muttered.  “I haven’t even gotten to touch the console, yet.  They still keep making faces at me for touching their sacred blah blah.”

“It’s important to them,” Hunk objected quietly.  There wasn’t a response, and Shiro suspected that Pidge had made a face rather than reply verbally.  “We’ll let you know when we’ve made progress.”

Snorting, Lance grunted.  “No, take your take.  We can do this all day.  This is nothing.”

Overhead, Shiro occasionally got glimpses of the tiny, fast moving dots that were the blue and red lions.  The swarms of attack drones they were facing were too small for the naked eye, but Shiro knew they were pests, and only threatening in large groups. They hadn’t tried to engage the main transport ship directly, yet, but it hadn’t tried to hit them either.  It honestly didn’t seem to be much of an attack ship.  Likely, they’d just happened to be in the area to respond when the team showed up.

“We can manage as long as you need,” Keith replied seriously.  “But a heads up would be good.”

Shiro sighed.  “I’m nearly to the site now.  If you haven’t gotten to the shield console by then, at least walk me through my end.”

“I’m starting to think they’re not going to let us,” Pidge muttered darkly.  “What then?”

“They will,” Shiro replied, voice confident as he could manage.  No need to give up hope on it so early.  “And if they don’t… we’ll keep the Galra from it one way or another.”

“Understood.  The elders are coming back, now, so hopefully we’ll known more soon.” 

Listening to the chattering with half an ear, Shiro disembarked from the lion and turned around, gazing back the way he’d came.

Standing at the edge like this, Shiro could see for miles.

Desert stretched out before him, so different from the one around the Galaxy Garrison.  This was more like what Shiro had seen in books, with huge, rolling sand dunes that reached out into the sky like shifting mountains.  The two suns beat down, enough that Shiro would be sweating in anything less temperature controlled than the suit, and he was sure he’d have a nasty sunburn where the helmet didn’t cover.

In the center, there were two bright spots of color in the otherwise burn red landscape.  One was the city, made of pure white stone and draped with fabrics that blocked the suns’ rays from the streets below.  It sprawled out, gleaming like a diamond as the pale color reflected the light right back into Shiro’s eyes.

The other was the small circle of brilliant green.  It was hard to tell in the sunshine, but there was a hint of a verdant glow, the sparking, swirling energy of the planet’s defense system.

It hadn’t stopped the Galra before.  Their ships had been too powerful, and the people of Dreavia had been overwhelmed.

But maybe with some modifications, it might.  This planet’s shields, mixed with the technology of the Castle of Lions might make something that could finally hold off a Galra fleet for longer than an hour at a time.

At least, that was the hope.

Rolling his shoulders, Shiro turned, eyes narrowed.  The top of the cliff looked like nothing special, but there was supposed to be- ah, there.

A tiny, barely used path snaked its way farther up an outcropping rocks, where it was too small for the black lion to land.. And at the top of it would be the interface system. 

And that was Shiro’s part of this whole plot. Keith and Lance engaged the stationed Galra ship, Pidge and Hunk made the modifications, and Coran and Allura handled the landed Castle of Lions interfacing.  Shiro just needed to make sure the shields worked correctly with all the little modules scattered around.  They would need to be updated to allow the modifications to work, and that required direct input.

Apparently, the closest one of these was at the top of a cliff.  Because of course it was.

Shiro followed the path until he reached a huge chunk of nearly sheer rock.  He could walk around all the way and take an extra twenty minutes in the blistering sun, or…

Taking a few steps back, Shiro ran toward the rocks, then jumped up, using his jetpack to give himself an extra push.  At the peak, he grabbed on with the metal hand, digging in until the fingers caught anything strong enough to hold his weight.  Once that was done, Shiro got his footing again as best he could and repeated the whole action.

Climbing up only took a few minutes, like that.

Maybe it was the best he was here alone.  Shiro would have had problems if any of the other paladins saw him doing something so needlessly dangerous.  But the jet pack would have saved him if he fell, and Shiro didn’t have the patience to run around a giant hunk of rock.

Ahead of him, baking in the heat of the suns, sat the module.  It was made of the same white rocks as the city, flat with a curved top.

Frankly, the shape of it reminded Shiro of a tombstone, which was just uncomfortable.

“Great!” Pidge said over the comms, so relived and loudly that Shiro was startled into paying proper attention to the chatter again.  “Okay, we’re finally being allowed to work with it.  Coran, are you ready?”

“As I’ll ever be!” Coran replied easily.  

Allura cleared her throat.  “Be on alert, Paladins.  While we work with the consoles, the Castle of Lions will not be able to provide support.  You’ll be on your own.”

That only made Lance snort.  “I think we’ll be okay.  These stupid drones are more like gnats than anything scary.  They’re just a pain.  We’ve got this as long as you make sure we don’t get extra company.  No more place mats for dinner here, thanks so much.”

“What are you even talking about?” Keith asked, and Shiro could picture the way his lips would tightened and his eyes would narrow.

Before they could start, Shiro settled in front of the module.  “I’m ready too.”  Reaching out, he gently tapped the front, and it lit up with a gentle, teal glow.  He’d expected it to be hot to the touch, but if anything brushing it made Shiro feel chilled.

“Sit tight,” Hunk told him.  “It’ll be easier if we’re all working on this at the same time.  We just need five minutes to get ready.”

But then Lance’s breath caught.  “Um, guys?  Remember how I just said we should hurry before company shows up?”

Of course.

Tilting his head back, Shiro saw the bright swirl of a warp tunnel exit.  “How bad is it?”

“Another warship,” Keith reported, and from the muffled sound of his voice, he was probably gritting his teeth.  “And fighters.”

Glancing over his shoulder, Shiro looked back at the Black Lion, standing where he’d left it on the cliff’s edge.  But this was something they needed to set up the defenses.  Once those were settled, they had a better chance overall.  “How long can you manage?”

“I can-” Hunk offered, shaky and unsure.

“No,” Shiro replied immediately.  “We need you both.  Between interfacing and programming, it’s not a one person job.  How long?”

Lance let out a hiss of breath.  “At this rate?  Depends on what that big ship is packing.  Fifteen?  Maybe twenty.”

“We can get twenty,” Keith agreed.

Closing his eyes, Shiro bit back a sigh.  “Give me as long as you can.  Worse comes to worse, try to separate the drones from the larger ships.  If we get the shield up and there’s a few of the little ones inside, we can clean-up.”

“Alright,” Lance replied, if dubiously.  Any ship they let come close could do serious damage to the city, after all.

But it was a risk they were going to have to take.

While Lance and Keith stayed on the defensive, Shiro covered his mouth to take a few deep breaths without anyone hearing.  Part of him wanted to say screw it and join them anyway, but it wasn’t the smart call.  It was just what burned through him, impulsive and passionate.

Focus.  Patience.

“Okay, starting to input the coding changes on our end,” Pidge called.  “Hunk’s got the connections started.  Ready for you on the other end.”

“Affirmative,” Coran replied.  “Beginning interface download.”

And in the meantime, all Shiro could do was listen.

Lance let out a grunt.  “I’ve got one of the swarms right on me.  Keith, can you cover me?  I’m gunna roll them off.”

“I-”  Keith paused, then let out a strangled noise.  “Yeah.  Do it quick.  And- bank!”

Above them, the dot that was probably the blue lion darted to the side, and there was a series of tiny flashes.  Fighter ship fire.

“I’m good,” Lance replied.  “I’m- woah!  Okay, now I’m good.  Back in position.”

Stomach twisting, Shiro forced his gaze back down onto the module.  It did nothing.

“Interface complete,” Allura called.  “We have a connection. I should be able to help you from here, now.”

Pidge let out a sigh of relief.  “Good.  This interface isn’t like anything I’ve ever seen.  Beginning the energy transfer, and-”

“KEITH!”

The scream made Shiro jump, and his head snapped up just in time to see what must have been the second warship fire off it’s ion cannon.  It clipped one of the small dots, and the lion’s flight path suddenly went haywire.

Oh no.

Shiro stood, trying desperately to keep up with the path of the dots.  “Keith?  Keith!”

“Nothing’s responding,” Keith reported, voice nearly a croak  “It’s not- I’m in the planet’s gravity.  I’m going down!”

Before Shiro could make the order, Lance spoke.  “I’m on it.”  The other dot zoomed passed, until they were indistinguishable from each other.  “Got him.  But we’re both going down.”

They were getting noticeably bigger.

As were the other shapes of the rest of the Galra fleet.

“Lance, get the red lion as far away as you can,” Shiro called.  He glanced at the city and bit the inside of his lip, then continued.  “Stand guard.  I don’t want the Galra getting access to a damaged lion.”

There was silence.  “But, Shiro, the city-”

“We’ll take care of it as fast as we can,” Shiro shot back.  “This is an order.”

Keith groaned.  “I can take care of myself when we’re down, and Lance can-”

“No,” Shiro replied, voice hard.  “The lions are priority.”

It was cold, but it was necessary.

They had come to save these people.  They’d come to work with this technology, to try and create a shield that could withstand heavy firepower.

But all that was worth nothing if the lions were taken, and they couldn’t form Voltron.

The lives in that city didn’t outweigh those of the entire universe.

“Understood,” Lance replied, but it was soft and unhappy.  “We’re- brace, Keith!”

There was a thud, and Keith cried out just as Lance grunted.  

“Ow,” Keith muttered.  

Snorting, Lance let out a low mutter that was probably a curse.  “Next time you can carry your own weight down.  But we’re both safe.  I can still fight.”  There was a hint of hope to his voice, but mostly resignation.

He knew his orders.  One lion couldn’t take on an entire battleship, and this time there was no running.  

Allura took a deep breath.  “We’ll be up as soon as we’re able, and we’ll be able to defend just as well,” she replied, voice confident.  If it hadn’t been for the pause, Shiro would have been fooled.

No one objected, but it wasn’t a pleased silence, either.

“Pidge, Hunk, I need an ETA.”

Pidge let out a quiet groan, something venomous in the noise.  “Ten minutes?”

“Maybe a little less,” Hunk offered quietly.  “Now that we’re all focused in, and- wait.  Where are they going?”

Glancing up again, Shiro squinted.  They were coming down fast, but it was hard to tell exactly where from just standing in one place and looking at the sky.

But to him, it looked like they were coming his way.

“The Black Lion,” Allura breathed.  “Shiro, they’re coming for you.  You need to get out of there.”

Swallowing hard, Shiro took a step back.  “I can’t.”

Keith let out a shaky breath.  “I’ve seen you fly, you can-”

“There’s too many, and I still have to get back down in time.  And I need to be nearby, or this was all for nothing.”  Shiro turned to run, but then paused, looking back.  “The shields will keep the Galra out for long enough.”

Just ten minutes.   That wasn’t enough for them to land, to see the empty lion, to decide Shiro wasn’t coming back, and to load it into the ship.

He just had to stall them out until the Castle was ready.

But if it was just him and the drones, they’d find him eventually.  So first, he needed to trick them.

Instead of running away from them black lion, Shiro ran toward it.  He jumped off the edge of the rock pile, letting his jet pack slow his fall enough to land in a safe roll, then ran back to the lion.

By now, the Galra ships were beginning to land, and the sentries and soldiers on board were beginning to disembark.  

Shiro didn’t have a chance in hell of fighting them individually, so instead he jumped down the sheer, hundred foot drop off the side of the original cliff that led down to the desert and the city below.

For one second, he heard shouts and cries, but then the wind was whistling too loudly in his ears and he was too far down. 

Gritting his teeth, Shiro activated the jetpack, just enough to slow his free fall.  Then he jammed his Galra arm into the rock and activated it.  Dust swirled up around him and a rock dislodged itself violently, cracking into the side of his helmet.  The sensors went wild, then cut off, but Shiro couldn’t hear anything over the sound of metal tearing through rock, so he wasn’t sure if the comms had survived.

Now that there was a cloud of sand and dirt above him, Shiro activated the jet pack again and shoved off, curving along the side of the rock.  It was a U and not a perfect circle, so Shiro wouldn’t be able to get all the way back around to the opposite side, but he would at least be able to duck along the edge and find another way up until he was needed at the module.

And now the Galra probably thought he was heading back toward the rest of the team, which meant they wouldn’t be looking nearby.

It was the best he was going to get.

With the jetpack and his arm, Shiro was able to start climbing back up quickly, jamming the metal fingers in wherever there wasn’t a handhold.  He shook the remaining dirt off his helmet.  “Am I still online?”

There was a crackle and the hint of a voice - Pidge, if Shiro wasn’t mistaken - but it was garbled, static-y nonsense.

Shit.

Well, when they needed the module, hopefully they’d shout enough to at least get his attention.

Rather than pull himself up right away, Shiro dug his fingers into the top of the cliff, glad that the dirt cloud before had covered his hands (and probably the rest of him) in a fine layer of dust.  It would make it a little harder to spot him, especially dulling the shine off the metal arm.  Then he paused, listening.

He could hear the voices of the Galra sentries and soldiers, but nothing that sounded close. It was all barked orders and acknowledgments, too far away for the translators to pick up properly.

Taking a deep breath, Shiro pulled himself up, inch by slow inch, until he could peek over the top.

No one was facing him.  They were heading back to their ships or looking over the edge, figuring out where he’d gone.  So Shiro took the advantage while he had it, darting up and behind a rock outcropping, then searching for a place to hide.

Nestled at the base of the slab of rock with the module was a crevice that went down inside into darkness.

Shiro moved closer, keeping an ear out for the sounds of the soldiers looking away again.  But he could hear a few of the ships taking off, so it seemed like his ruse has worked.  When he pushed his arm into the little space in the rock and lit it, he still couldn’t see the end.

A cave.  Perfect.

Shiro pulled back his arm and slid in legs first, squirming into the small space. It was a tight fit with the armor, and once in he had to fold his legs up to his chest, but when he turned off the arm, it put him back into total darkness, so no one would be able to see him from the outside.

Just when Shiro leaned back against the wall and let out a low sigh, there was a concussive boom.

The sound was so different from the usual sounds off Galra attacks that at first Shiro didn’t recognize it.  It sounded like maybe one of the rocks above had fallen from the top and hit the ground nearby, and made it feel like an earthquake.

But then it clicked.

The Galra were looking for him.  They thought he was in the city.

So they were bombing it.

Shiro had known the Galra would go to the city, would probably attack and ransack it for him.  There was a price on his head.  Or, at least his arm.  They would want to collect.

He hadn’t thought-

Well, he’d known he was doing.  Shiro had known the choice he was making.  This wasn’t the time to give excuses, to claim he’d had no idea the Galra would decide bringing a building down on Shiro’s head and digging his body back out for the arm was worth it.  Because he’d meant to direct their attentions elsewhere.

As long as the Galra were focusing on the city, they weren’t going for any of the Paladins, or the Castle of Lions.  They were either safely out in the desert or in the oasis.  Neither were within direct striking range.

Shiro’s fists clenched into the dirt, and he let out a low, deep breath, then inhaled just as slowly.

If he showed himself, or tried to get to the black lion now, then Shiro would be killed, and they’d be able to take it away.  Even if he was closer than this, Shiro didn’t trust that the shield wouldn’t deactivate in preparation for him.  Yes, the black lion reacted to his thoughts, but Shiro knew if he so much as thought he had a shot to get to the lion, then the shield would come down.  And it was all too likely that Shiro’s impulsive, hopeful thought wouldn’t be right, or would have been just an impression.

Then the Galra would have a chance to get in, and that was worst case scenario.

None of the paladins were in the city. None of the lions were in the city. None of the Alteans were in the city.

That mean that the city was an acceptable loss.

Even the thought made Shiro’s stomach turn.  As another blast hit, dislodging dust from the ceiling and making it rain down over him, he mouthed a silent apology.

In his helmet, there was another crackle, two syllables that might have been his name.

“Stay where you are,” Shiro whispered.  If the helmet’s mic was working at all, they’d be able to hear that.  Hopefully, no one outside would be able to.  “Keep working.  When you’re done, try to send me three clicks.  I’m not getting anything clear.”

There was loud noise in return, and Shiro was pretty sure at least three people were talking over each other at once.  

If nothing else, Shiro was glad he couldn’t hear their objections.  He’d get them later, but it was hard enough to make the call now.

They were going to be furious with him.

But it wasn’t Shiro’s job to make them happy, or even to do the right thing in the moment.  It was his job to make the right call for the rest of the universe.

“Stay in position.  Do not engage,” he repeated.

Then he closed his eyes.

Another impact.  Another shower of dirt and rocks against his helmet.

Guilt tore through him like a poison, twisting his stomach and tightening his muscles.  Shiro was holding himself so tensely that it felt like something in him would snap.  He forced himself to breath, to unwind before he actually hurt something and damned them all.  He had to be prepared to run or fight at a moment’s notice.

But the reminder didn’t make him stop gagging and tasting bile in the back of his throat.

Shiro curled in on himself and reminded himself he was making the right call.

It didn’t feel like it.

 

Another bomb fell, and Shiro was too far away to hear the screams, to feel the panic, to see the city burn and crumple.

His mind supplied the images anyway.

 

After the initial chaos, Shiro’s comms had gone silent.  Part of him was relieved because at least he didn’t have to hear it, but he knew he’d just been taken off the line.  The rest of them were probably talking without him.

Shiro just hoped they would listen.  Because he would have a few things to say if they hadn’t, and he didn’t give a damn how upset they were about the orders.

Then there was a tiny crackle as his comms came back on, and three short, static-y buzzes.

Time to go.

Shiro moved closer to the entrance, slow and cautious.  He couldn’t hear as much chatter, now, and he doubted it was because all the sentries had left.  That warship had to still be nearby, because there was no place closer to the city to land it.  Besides, Shiro had only heard a few ships fly off, and if there were more he’d be hearing more bombing.

Swallowing hard to fight the renewed lump in his throat, Shiro squirmed out.

The stray boulders he’d originally ducked behind still hid him, and Shiro saw that most of the sentries and soldiers were positioned around the black lion.  The shield was still up, keeping them from getting too close, but the edge of it was nearly completely surrounded.

Which left fewer wandering around the rest of the cliff.  And that was just fine with Shiro.

There was no way to climb the rock in a stealthier way, and Shiro didn’t have time to make his way around and try to find another path.  So he took a deep breath and jumped.

Shiro got through several cycles of jump-grab-jump before he started to hear commotion below, and he was only a few feet from the top when the firing began.  With a last scramble, Shiro got over the top and moved to the module at a crouch.

The module which he no longer had any instruction for working with.

Damn.

Gritting his teeth, Shiro tapped the flat front surface, and it lit up.  The language was a set of symbols he couldn’t even try to untangle, since apparently this culture hadn’t completely switched over to Galran script.  Normally, Shiro would applaud that, but it was really goddamn inconvenient right now.

All Shiro could do was flip through screens and hope to find something that looked like an update button.  And that was goddamn ridiculous when behind him, a city was burning to the ground.

Finally, there was something that had a bright yellow outline on it, and Shiro held his breath as he pressed it.  Hopefully this wasn’t going to turn the entire system off and damn them all.

But, no, the system flashed a deep aqua color, sudden and bright even against the two-sun day.  When Shiro glanced past it, he saw others begin to appear, hazed and dimmer as they got farther away.

Then the sky shattered.

The same honeycomb-esque network that protected the Castle of Lions appeared overhead, turning the sky from blue to the same aqua as the module.  It shimmered for a moment, the whole thing seeming to buck and readjust, and sections flashed white as they caught the light of the sun and then settled back down into place.

Then it stilled and settled, still glowing green.

The shield was up.

But now Shiro was stuck on a rock, with the black lion surrounded by Galra soldiers, and a war ship directly overhead.  One that wasn’t going anywhere, and who probably knew it.

Which meant it had no goal but to destroy what was underneath.

Standing, Shiro backed away from the module.  He couldn’t stay in one place, and he didn’t want them firing on the module anyway, just in case that ended up messing with the shield.  He hoped not, because that was a serious design flaw, but it was possible.

As he walked, an either lucky or amazingly well aimed shot fired just over the edge of the rock slab, aimed right for Shiro’s chest.

He moved, but it was too close and he had too little warning.  Instead, the blast caught him in the shoulder, leaving a burn on the armor and making Shiro’s whole body jerk and ache.

It would have been painful but not debilitating, except that the top of the rock slab wasn’t very large, and Shiro had been right along the side edge.

And the impact was enough to send him tumbling over.

Shiro hit the rock face on the way down, scraping his back.  Something shattered and snapped, and he knew without looking that the jetpack was gone.  But it didn’t matter, because he wouldn’t have had time to reposition himself and set it off before he hit the ground.

Crying out, Shiro bounced along the unforgiving rock, the impact sending up another cloud of dust.  He’d fallen on the Galra arm, which only seemed a little scraped and dented from the impact.  Small mercies, except that the jolt had jammed the metal into the flesh part of his arm, and Shiro was almost certain his shoulder was dislocated.  The rest of him ached, especially his head and back, but the armor had taken most of the impact.

Shiro tried to push himself up, taking a shaky, pained breath, but an impact to the back of his helmet sent him back down.  When he looked up, he saw a Galra soldier holding his weapon like a club, the butt of it facing Shiro’s head.

Shiro stayed down, not moving a muscle.  The helmet was already damaged, and he didn’t dare risk another hit to it if he could help it.

Another soldier grabbed him by the arm, making Shiro cry out in pain, but they didn’t so much as hesitate as they dragged him bodily toward the black lion.

Slamming his eyes shut, Shiro reached for that connection, and reminded the lion not to open.  Keep the shields up, keep yourself safe, don’t make this all a waste, keep them up, stay safe, be safe.

There was no answering purr, but the shield stayed in place, even when Shiro was dropped right in front of it.

The Galra commander stood over him, yellow eyes disdainful as he sneered down at Shiro.  “Your trick will cost you.  Release the lion to us, and your death will be swift instead.”

Well, there was a sales pitch.

Rather than bother to answer - Shiro was out of breath, he was tired, he was in pain - he looked passed the commander and made himself stare.

The city was nearly gone.

Where there had once been towering buildings made of pure white stone there was now blacked ruins and white debris.  Where there had once been colorful lengths of cloth protecting the citizens from the sun, there were burnt threads and flames.

Where there had once been life, there was destruction.

On Shiro’s command.

But there was one more thing in Shiro’s sight, and that was the growing shape of the blue lion.

So rather than reply, Shiro just smiled.

The commander reeled his hand back, and Shiro took the hit just as the blue lion launched itself at the nearest of the bombing ships, ripping it apart in it’s claws.  A shot from the tail laser sent another one crashing into the sands below.  The rest started to surround him, and Lance had to dodge away with a roar, avoiding their fire.

“Get to your ships!” The commander snapped, and there was an instant scramble.

Above them, the warship turned, preparing to fire on the blue lion.  And while Lance could dodge for a while, there wasn’t much one lion could do against a ship of that magnitude, especially when there were other threats to worry about.

But he didn’t have to, because instead the war ship found itself being fired upon by the now freed Castle of Lions, with the green and yellow lions flanking.

Glancing at the rage on the commander’s face, Shiro tilted his head, considering.

Yeah, he had one more morally questionable thing in him today.

So Shiro suddenly shot forward on his feet, breaking out of the distracted grips of the soldiers and headbutting the Commander.

Who, due to standing on the edge of a cliff, fell over.

Shiro heard his screams, then heard them fade.  In a few moments, they stopped completely.

That one, at least, Shiro wasn’t going to regret, even when the soldiers on either side of him turned on him.  Because the green lion landed on the cliff as well, roaring loud enough to make them flinch.

Despite his trepidation and guilt, Shiro shot Pidge a smile as he used his good shoulders to knock one of the soldiers down, then twisted out of the way of a swipe from another.

At this point, they’d defeated the Galra.

Shiro wasn’t sure if they’d won, though.

***

Stepping out of the black lion made Shiro’s bruises seem to throb through the rest of him.  But this he needed to see.

The city looked no better inside it than from a distance.  Worse, even.  From up high, he hadn’t been able to see the details.  To see the leftovers of people’s lives, flung from the buildings, smoldering and ruined.

He hadn’t been able to see the bodies, either.

This wasn’t something Shiro could shy from.  He didn’t want to see it, but this was the consequences of his actions.  This was the cost.  And he refused to soften that blow, even when it felt like something was clawing its way into his chest.  After all, the people who had been hit felt had felt much worse.

All he could do was prevent the others from seeing it with their own eyes.  Watching from the lions was enough.

Stepping down the streets of the ruined city, summoned by the castle’s hail, was the leader of the city, Janei.  Separate from the elders, she had been the one to invite them in and explain their technology in the first place, giving them the idea to mix their technologies together.

If she knew the specifics, Shiro wondered if she regretted that welcome.

When Janei stepped in front of him, resting both hands heavily on her cane and slumping with age and exhaustion, Shiro bowed his head.  Her dark hair had already been nearly overtaken by white, and her tan hands were always wrinkled, but now she seemed so much older than she’d been just a few hours ago.

“I’m sorry for your loss,” Shiro told her.  “We believe the shielding will hold them, now.  There’s not much we can offer you, after this, but we can give you time.  And if the Galra return, we can offer our services.”

“That’s more than we’ve had before,” she replied, soft and tired.  “It may be enough.  We can rebuild, if we have the chance to.”  Janei met his eyes, her shoulder set and chin held high.  “We are stronger than their attacks.”  After a moment, she took a deep breath.  “But there are more who are not.  More than we cannot reach.  But you can.”

Shiro nodded.

Janei looked him over, then gestured for him to follow.  “Then come with me.  We have much to discuss.”

Repeating the command into his helmet for the others to meet them, Shiro followed.  He never let his eyes stray from the destruction.

He had no business forgetting.

***

“We’re just going to accept their technology?” Hunk shouted, pacing back and forth through the control room.  His hands were in his hair, gripping at the dark strands as his gaze snapped from Shiro to Allura and Coran, then back again.  “We let them get bombed!”

Allura gazed back steadily.  “We cannot afford to turn down such a useful tool against the Galra,” she pointed out.  “It’s simply a relief that they offered to share it to us, after all the secrecy of before.”

Snorting, Keith folded his arms darkly.  He hadn’t met Shiro’s eyes since they’d recovered him and the red lion.

Which hurt.  More than Shiro had expected it to, actually.  Keith had always, always been on Shiro’s side.

But here, Shiro couldn’t afford to back down, even if Keith disagreed.  He had to think of the big picture, even when that meant making the painful decision in the moment.

He hoped Keith - he hoped all of them - would understand that.  But Shiro didn’t think that understanding would come immediately.

“But we also gave them a way to protect themselves in the future,” Shiro replied, calmly as he could manage.  “And we have a way to help more people in the future.  This kind of defense is too critical to pass up, no matter the circumstances.  There are too many planets that can’t afford to join our alliance without knowing we have some way of keeping the Galra from immediately wiping them out.  This solves that problem.”

Pidge snorted, the sound dark.  “Yeah, sure, okay.  We can help protect you now.  But just so you know, if a fight gets heavy, you’re our meat shields.  Good luck.”

Flinching, Shiro ducked his head and closed his eyes.  His shoulders ached in protest of the movement.

“It’s not the decision any of us wants to make,” Coran replied, voice softer than either Allura or Shiro’s had been.  “But there are days we can’t save everyone.  We have to take the hits we can survive.”

Lance sighed and scrubbed over his face.  “We don’t even know this is a long-term solution,” he pointed out, mostly resigned.  “The Galra could come up with something new and break this and we’d have nothing again.  It’d all be for nothing.”

“Surviving another day and keeping all the lions with the Castle is not nothing,” Allura replied.  “Even if we’d done nothing but retreat, it would have been a greater success than the alternative.”

Shiro nodded, still staring at the table instead of the rest of the paladins.  “The lions are priority.  And until we know there’s someone else who can take over, so are our lives.”

Letting out a guttural, frustrated noise, Hunk spun to face them.  “So that’s it?  We decide we’re more important?  What’s even the point, then?  Are we going to start classifying everyone we meet on a scale of ‘most useful’ to ‘expendable’?”

“No,” Shiro replied.  “We don’t.  I do.  Or the Princess and Coran.”

There was dead silence at that.

Finally, Allura took a deep breath.  “I think we all need time.  We’ll discuss this again later.  For now, we have injuries to see to, and I’m sure you’re all exhausted.  Keith, Shiro, if you’d both head to the pod rooms, we can see to you.”

Shiro swallowed, then looked over the others.  “If it’s alright, Princess, I think I’d like to talk with the team, first.”  Then he glanced at Keith and frowned.  “If you’re alright to stay.”

“No, I want to talk,” Keith replied, still looking at Shiro’s shoulder rather than his eyes.

Glancing over, Shiro slumped as he met Allura’s eyes, nearly begging with his gaze alone.  Yes, they should all rest.  Yes, they had injuries that they needed to deal with.

But Shiro didn’t want this wound to fester.  He was the one they had a problem with right now, so it was him that needed to take their ire.  Once that was spent, they’d all rest easier.

Resting her hand on Shiro’s good shoulder, Allura nodded.  “Alright.  Try not to take long.”  She inclined her head to the others, then slipped out, followed by a clearly worried Coran.

As soon as they were both gone, the room focused in on Shiro, and the atmosphere darkened further.

“I don’t like this,” Hunk told Shiro, voice flat.  “It feels like we’re going the wrong way.”

Shiro met his eyes steadily.  “I understand that, and I’m sorry.  But if it’s between one or the other, I have to make a call.  You’re free to disagree with that decision.  If you feel I’ve crossed a line, there will never be consequences for challenging me - provided it’s not arguing with those orders in the middle of a conflict.”

Thankfully, no one argued with that.  While they weren’t exactly good at following it in the moment, they understood the need for immediate response in an emergency situation, trained by both the Galaxy Garrison and hard earned experience.  The middle of a fight was not the time for a moral debate.

Which was why they were doing this now, instead.

Finally sitting back down, Hunk held his helmet to his chest, frowning.  “I don’t want to be like them.”

“It’s not the same thing,” Lance replied softly, resting his hand on Hunk’s shoulder.  “We’re not the same as the Galra because it was one or the other.  We couldn’t say there was going to be no fighting.”

Pidge frowned.  “But it’s not like we didn’t know what they’d do.”  There was less venom in her voice now, at least, but in it’s place was exhaustion.  “The question is, do we have responsibility when we know what they’ll do, and we choose to let it happen anyway?”

Closing his eyes, Shiro took a deep breath.  “In the end, it was still the Galra who decided to attack and who chose to drop the bombs.  And there are going to be hard choices when the stakes are that high.  All we can do is make the best decisions in the moment.”

When Shiro looked back up, Pidge was watching him, her eyes searching.  He made himself stare back, not looking away, because he wasn’t wrong.  

Finally, she nodded, leaning back in her chair.  But there was still tension to her shoulders, and her lips were pressed together in a thin, unhappy line.

This probably wasn’t over.  But for the moment, Pidge seemed satisfied with that answer.

“We should be better than this,” Keith replied, voice dark.  “There should have been a way.  If-” he cut himself off, fingers clenching together into a tight fist by his side.

“Keith,” Shiro called, quiet and gentle, and he didn’t continue until Keith at least picked his head up, even if he didn’t look directly at Shiro.  “I would have ordered you to retreat eventually, or at least try to get them into a chase.  There was no way for the two of you to deal with it all for long enough.”

Baring his teeth, Keith bristled.  “There should have been!”

“There wasn’t,” Shiro replied, unyielding.  “If you hadn’t been shot down then, it would have happened later.  There were too many.  You both did well in holding off as long as you did.”

But Shiro must have misjudged something, because Keith didn’t look soothed.  If anything, he looked more like a caged animal, tense and like he was about to jump out of his seat.  “That’s not acceptable.  There’s no reason we should have just sat there and-”  He shook his head hard and looked away again, breathing too controlled to be natural.

Oh.

Keith was upset at being hit, yes.  Shiro didn’t doubt that.  But he was probably more upset at having been helpless.

They’d all been helpless, because Shiro had ordered them to be.

“I know that…”  Hunk finally took a deep breath, still holding onto his helmet like a stuffed animal.  The effect of it and his hunched shoulders made him look smaller.  Younger.  “I know we can’t save everyone.  I do.  And I understand that we can’t afford to lose the lions.  But I don’t like the attitude.  And I don’t like that we had to just sit there while they were…”

“The elders were pretty upset,” Pidge admitted.  “They still didn’t like us working with their artifacts.  When we just kept going while they were dropping bombs so close, they were upset.”

Hunk nodded, eyes closed firmly.

Ducking his head, Shiro let out a slow breath.

He could imagine what that had sounded like.  What sharp accusations had been thrown at them both.  That they were cowards, that they were scavengers, that they only cared about the technology and not about the people.

The elders must have been scared, must have been hurt that the Galra were destroying their city.  The place they lived, where their families lived, where they’d almost certainly grown up.  How anything but direct action would have been lashed out at, and logical statements like ‘this will keep them out and we can fight them after’ wouldn’t have mattered when there were bombs dropping.

And they’d been ordered to sit there and listen to it, no matter what.

It wasn’t just them, either.  Lance and Keith would have had front row seats to the destruction.  While Shiro had seen the city burn, they had watched it crumble. 

“I’m sorry,” Shiro replied.  “I’m sorry you had to go through that.  To see it.”  He nodded to Lance and Keith.  Lance nodded in return, but Keith still wasn’t looking back.  “But it’s still not a decision I’d take back.  That’s not one I want to make, but it’s the one I have to.”  Standing - slowly, painfully - Shiro held out his helmet.  “If that’s not acceptable, take it.”

Looking up, Hunk stared at the helmet, his eyes wet.  “Shiro, that’s not helping.”

Shiro sighed, harsher than he’d meant to.  “It’s not a help.  I’m not trying to-”  He took a deep breath through his teeth, the noise loud and rough in the otherwise quiet room.  “It’s not meant to soothe you.  I’m trying to show you I’m taking your concerns  _ seriously.  _  If you don’t trust my judgment, then it’s useless for me to try and lead you.  If you don’t trust me, we might as well have lost the lions anyway.  So if you don’t think you can listen to me, take it.”

There was silence at that.

Maybe this was a bit much.  Maybe this was something better talked about later.  But Shiro wanted this on the table, and he wanted it done so he could go lie down.

“Can you trust me enough to form Voltron?” Shiro asked them bluntly.  “Has this damaged that?”

Lance considered him carefully.  “Not for me,” he admitted.  “Not that far.  I don’t like it, but I understand it.”

“Not me either,” Pidge added.

Which left Hunk and Keith.

“I don’t know,” Hunk replied softly, each breath wet.  “I don’t think so, but this whole thing makes me feel so sick.  Can… can we think about it?”

Shiro nodded, dropping his arm but not sitting back down. He wasn’t entirely sure if he did that he’d get back up.  “It’s not an offer that expires.  And if it does, you should take my command anyway, because something has gone wrong.”

Meeting his eyes, Hunk gave a tiny nod.  “I think I need to cool off.  And I think there are times the risk is worth it.  Every time we go out and fight the Galra, there’s risk we’ll lose the lions.  I want to know what the line is.”

“That’s a discussion we can all have, but not right now,” Shiro replied, and Hunk nodded again, more satisfied.

Right now, Shiro didn’t think it would hurt Voltron.  At least, not long term.  He’d talk with Hunk, and maybe they’d be shaky for a while, but he thought it was a wound that would heal.

Still, that was something to keep in mind.  That making these kinds of decisions could destroy the team just as much as losing a lion.

But that didn’t mean Shiro was allowed to stop making them.  It just meant it was a balancing act, and one he couldn’t afford to screw up.  Just one more thing to keep in mind.

“Keith?” Shiro asked softly.  “What about you?”

Glaring at his feet, Keith sighed.  “It’s hypocritical,” he bit out, tone dark.  “What’s the difference, here?  When I said we shouldn’t take the lions to Zarkon’s fleet to save Allura, that was unacceptable.  Now it’s acceptable to let an entire city die on the off chance the Galra went for a damaged lion.  What’s the difference?”

Shiro ducked his head again.  “It is hypocritical, yes.  The difference is that I lost the Princess when I should have been protecting her, and I wasn’t being rational.  You were right, to at least consider that perspective.  It’s what I should have been doing.  If I’d had more distance, I would have.”

He thought about the ship with the red lion, when he’d been willing to let those prisoners die until Pidge had pointed out that Commander Holt and Matt might have been on board.  When the lion had been more important until someone he cared about and felt responsible for had been involved.

It was a failing as a leader.  One among many.

But he was the leader they had, until they decided otherwise.  

And it was the thing that got him up in the morning.  So he’d try to do better.

Keith finally seemed to nearly look Shiro in the eyes, though it was just slightly to the right.  “If you can acknowledge you made a mistake, I can live with it.”

“I made a mistake at the time.  I don’t think I did so now.  You’re free to disagree.”

Finally, Keith nodded. “That’s what I want.  Not the helmet.”

That was everyone.

For today, it was over.

Tomorrow would be another day, would be more hard questions.  But it was done for now.

The relief nearly knocked him off his feet.

“Dismissed, then,” Shiro replied, keeping his gaze steady and his back straight through sheer force of will.  “Go unwind.  It’s been a long day.”

Normally, that would set off joking, or at least a whoop from Lance.  Today, he only got a flash of a grin and a thankful look before Lance slumped against Hunk’s side, looking exhausted.

Pidge glanced over as Hunk wrapped an arm around Lance’s shoulders, keeping them both steady as they headed out, barely throwing back a wave as they went.  Then she looked Shiro over.  “You need help getting back to the pod room?”

“Honestly? I was going to go take a shower and relax for a moment.”  The idea of being shoved into a pod right now was worse than the pain and exhaustion.  He was bruised, but Shiro was almost sure nothing was broken, and his shoulder hurt, but not in a way that made it feel like a pod problem.

And, frankly, Shiro had earned an uncomfortable night.

It wasn’t like he was the one that got bombed.

Keith glared at him, eyes finally snapping onto Shiro’s face.  “No way.”

“I’m not allowed to shower?” Shiro replied, tone dry.  “That’s unfortunate.”

Stepping into Shiro’s space, Keith jabbed a finger into his stomach.  He was moving pretty well, for someone who had taken a hit like that.  Then again, Lance had assisted, so it wasn’t nearly as bad as it could have been.  “You want us to trust your judgment?  Then don’t you dare pull the ‘oh I’m too tough to need healing’ macho crap.”

Shiro bristled in return.  “It has nothing to do with that.  When the hell have I ever been like that?”

“Every time you ignore an injury,” Keith shot back.  “You want chronologically or alphabetically?  I’ve got a dozen off the top of my head.”

Okay, no.  Shiro was at the end of his rope.  He’d kept his cool that entire conversation, but there was a limit, and he’d found it.  “That’s a lot of concern from someone who can barely look at me,” Shiro shot back, voice quiet and soft.  Calm.  Poisoned.  “I think you’d prefer I’d get comeuppance, considering.”

Freezing, Keith shot Shiro a stunned look, breaking straight through his temper.  “What, you think some broken bones makes up for today?”

No, it didn’t.

But it wasn’t like Shiro didn’t already have blood on his hands.  So he could make the hard calls and spare them the choice.  

There was no making up for what he’d done.  Keith was right.

“I suppose not,” Shiro replied, taking a step back.  His stomach twisted and fell, and all he wanted to do was go and sleep. 

No, not sleep.  Sleep meant nightmares. Shiro wanted to go and lie down in his bed and stop thinking for a while.

Keith stared at him, shoulders slumping.  “That’s not what I meant.”  He replied.  “It’s not- it’s not the same.”

Managing a thin, humorless smile, Shiro nodded.  “You’re right.”

“Stop-!”  Keith let out a strangled noise.  “You’re not listening to me.”

Suddenly, Pidge stepped forward, until she was between them both.  Shiro started.  He’d half-forgotten she hadn’t left yet.  “He doesn’t mean you deserve worse,” she said, voice hard.  “Keith means punishing yourself doesn’t change anything.  And it doesn’t make us feel better.  You said you believe it’s the right call.  Was that a lie?”

Shiro frowned.  “No, of course not.”

“Then why do you need punishing?” Keith shot back.  

“Because even if it was the best call, it doesn’t mean it doesn’t have consequences.  I’ll accept those.”

Pidge rolled her eyes.  “You already did.  These are wounds.  Go treat them, Shiro.  If you’ll feel better for washing up first, fine, but there’s a difference between accepting consequences and self-flagellating.  Whatever happened to bust up your jet pack couldn’t have been fun.  You got shot there?”

“No,” Shiro replied, the answer automatic.  “I fell.”  At their disbelieving looks, he sighed.  “Off the cliff.  The smaller one.”

Scrubbing his face, Keith grabbed onto Shiro’s arm.  “It goes both ways.  If you want us to trust your judgment on field decisions, we have to trust you to make good decisions at the castle.  And that includes not going around like that.  What if we’re attacked, later?”

Was that honest or manipulation?  Shiro honestly couldn’t tell.

“I’ll take him,” Keith continued, nodding to Pidge.

She looked between them both, then nodded back.  “Okay.  Feel better.  Both of you.”

Shiro managed a smile, and knew it wasn’t a very good attempt.  He was just tired, too much to even continue to protest them.  Besides, Keith was right.  He didn’t have the luxury to wallow like this.

Moving to his side, Keith took hold of Shiro’s metal arm and lifted it, trying to pull it over his shoulders.

Something in his wounded shoulder  _ gave. _

The pain whited out Shiro’s vision.

“Shit!  Shiro, what- the whole time, really? Why didn’t you go to the pod right away?”

Shiro sighed.  “Dealing with team problems came first.  I didn’t want it to get worse.”

Growing, Keith moved to his other side.  “Better here?”  At Shiro’s nod, he repeated the actions.  “Fine, whatever.  Let’s go.”  He started forward, walking along and not giving Shiro a chance to resist.  Either he kept up or he got pulled along by his arm.  In his current condition, Shiro wasn’t sure he’d keep his feet if that happened.

So he walked.

“I really am sorry,” he replied.  “I didn’t want to hurt you guys.”

Keith snorted.  “We know that.  We’re not stupid, Shiro.”

“But you still can’t look me in the eyes.”  

Frowning, Keith’s expression twisted.  “I did just now.”  But he seemed to get that it wasn’t what Shiro meant, because he sighed. “It’s not the same thing.  I want you to be critical of these kinds of calls, because that just makes sense.  I want you to be sure.  Right now, I don’t like it, but I can understand it.”  He looked over at Shiro, something in his gaze dark.  “But it’s not something you would have done back at the Galaxy Garrison, is it?”

Ah.

That made sense.

“No, it isn’t.  But I’d never had to make that kind of call, then.  I didn’t have a real command.  Everything was Star Trek.  There was always a way to win.  That’s not real life.”  Shiro let himself lean into Keith a little more.  “I wish it was.”

It was more honest than he really wanted to be, more raw.

But this was Keith.  Keith already knew.

Keith nodded, relaxing.  “There it is.  This whole conversation you were so calm.  Like it didn’t matter, so long as we weren’t upset with you.”

Shiro snorted.  “Raging would have helped?  Maybe I should have yelled at you more for being upset.  Or thrown things, that’s a great way to calm people down.”

“Yeah, okay, fine.  But I don’t want you to lose who you were.  That’s the person I follow.  And that’s still you so long as you want to beat the no-win scenario.”  Keith tightened his grip on Shiro’s arm.  

Letting out a bark of a laugh, Shiro eyed him.  “You want me to make those calls, but you want me to suffer over it?”

Keith considered, then nodded.  “Yeah, I do.  I don’t want them to be easy for you.  I want them to be hard decisions, even after everything.  I don’t want what happened to Zarkon to happen to you.”

It was on the tip of Shiro’s tongue to protest.  That they had no idea what happened to Zarkon and who he’d been.  

But Keith had a point.

“I promise it’ll never be easy,” Shiro replied.  “I don’t think I have it in me otherwise.”

“Good.”  Keith paused at the door to the pod room.  “For the record?  It’s not easy for us to watch you struggle, either.  But I’d rather that than the alternative.  That’s my version of the hard call.”

Bending the arm resting over Keith’s shoulder, Shiro rested his hand on top of his head and ruffled his hair.  “I know it’s hard.  Thank you.”

Keith nodded.  “Good.  Now, c’mon.  Pod time.”

Making a face, Shiro nodded.  “Yeah.  You too.”

Keith groaned, but didn’t protest.  Probably because he knew it’d turn into an argument worse.

Being a Paladin was all about making the decisions that did the most good, after all.  When Shiro stopped making those calls, he might as well have been killed.  Actually, he’d rather die than become like the previous Black Paladin.

But today wasn’t that day.  Shiro was still Shiro.  So today, he’d rest.

Tomorrow, they’d see.

 


End file.
